


Dark Olympus

by ZodiacFusion



Series: Dark Olympus [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, M/M, NaNoWriMo, Pre-Main Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-01-28 20:47:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12615168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZodiacFusion/pseuds/ZodiacFusion
Summary: Three pieces of silver, worth more together than alone.  Across the united lands they travel, in search of their new home.  A look into other demigods and their struggles to discover and accept themselves for what and who they are, while living in a world that wants nothing more than to kill them.  (Pre-Percy Jackson & the Olympians, NaNoWriMo)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I’m a day late and a dollar short. It took me far too long to finally decide on what I wanted to do for this year’s NaNoWriMo, but I finally settled on this! I don’t know what my update schedule is going to be like with this, but I’ll do my best. 
> 
> I’m not entirely sure what to do for a rating either--I’m going to go with ‘T’ for now, but it might get bumped up to ‘M’ later. Either way, this is largely being written for fun. Just about the only thing I’ll say is that this takes place before the main series. 
> 
> Reviews and comments are welcome; no flames. If you think something sucks, that’s totally fine, but I’ll need a little more than “This sucks.” Because otherwise, your feedback will be found wanting and will be fed to Festus the dragon. 
> 
> Warnings: This story will contain some violence, some mention of abuse, but nothing too crazy. The tone is a little darker at points than the main series, but again nothing too crazy. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t not own the characters or plot of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians nor the Heroes of Olympus series. I do own the original characters featured in this story; please do not use without permission, please & thank you.

Dark Olympus  
Volume 1  
Finding Home

 

_Prologue_

Sterling simply watched the light bulb. He'd lost track of how many days he'd spent in the small white room with its padded walls, the small square of a window, and single light bulb. He didn’t have much, but he had a light, and he was happy.

Attacking the orderly really wasn't such a great idea, but the man had scared him. Big and tall...such a brutish looking thing. Sterling didn't understand how some people looked like people and how other people looked like monsters, but no one else seemed able to see the difference.

Apparently this made him insane.

Not that Sterling would argue with that—he was insane. He saw things that others didn’t see, heard things that others couldn’t hear. His mind was a constant buzz of activity; a hundred thousand voices all calling out for attention. They were all the same voice; his own. It wasn’t like multiple personalities but more like his mind was just fractured into a thousand pieces all thinking different things at the same time. Either way, it ept him exhausted--his mind was a constant thrum of activity. He didn’t sleep so much as simply pass out from sheer exhaustion.

A very small part of Sterling suspected that it was just a large conspiracy, that everyone was in on the joke and laughing at him secretly. But he knew that that wasn’t the truth--he knew that he was really just not all quite there.

Still, he liked being in solitary. He didn’t have to deal with the stress of being around other people. He just got to sit in the room and wait. He hardly got any sleep; the voices in his head were never silent. The only rest he got was whenever sheer exhaustion finally got the best of him. He was a mess; he wore the smallest sized uniform they had for the patients but he practically swam in the white long sleeved shirt and pants.

There was a sudden whine that cut across the static of the voices in his head. Slowly the voices hushed; they only seemed to be silent at certain times, like this. He waited as the frequency changed and the signal cleared, wincing slightly at some of the higher pitched whining of the radio signal as it adjusted.

“Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?” asked the voice.

“Yes,” replied Sterling, his voice flat and without affect. “Hi.”

“It's been awhile since we’ve last spoken. I know it has, but I can never tell just how long I was gone for. What was it...ten, twenty minutes?”

“One year,” replied Sterling. “One year, six months, five days, and ten hours. I lost track of the minutes and seconds.”

“I’m sorry. I’m bad with time, you see. And I’m even worse with people.”

“I know,” replied Sterling, leaning back against the wall. “I know. I’m pretty bad with people too. I attacked someone recently.” Somehow admitting it made his actions seem more concrete. He wasn’t sure how long ago ‘recently’ was, however.

“Now why would you go and do something like that?” asked the kindly voice. It was a rough voice and deep, like a rumble, and definitely not a voice that normal people would use the word ‘kindly’ to describe, but the voice gave him comfort. If he had to describe it, the voice was what he would imagine tectonic plates sounded like when they rubbed against each other; a warm greeting amongst old friends in different forms. It had a sweet notion to it, even if tectonic plates rubbing against each other caused problems for so many other people. Earthquakes, volcanoes, mountains formed where the plates met...the earth shook and everything changed. Things were destroyed.

Sterling felt for the tectonic plates; did they stay apart for so long before their loneliness became unbearable and they reached out for comfort, consequences be damned? Sterling wondered if he and the voice were two separate tectonic plates, touching despite the consequences.

He wondered if the voice was the manifestation of a desire to have a father. As far as he could remember, it was just he and his mother. And his mother really didn’t seem to like him much; she left him in a place like Algae Acres, after all.

“The man was secretly a rotten apple. He looked normal on the outside, but something about his core was rotten. No one else could see it...I couldn’t help myself.”

There was a brief burst of static. “...instincts get you in…” more static “...though you can’t help your nature. I have to go soon, but your mother will be visiting you.”

That made Sterling blink. “Visit?”

“Yes. She’ll have a gift, for you. It doesn’t make up for the time you spent here, or what you’ve had to endure, but it will help you, I think, in the long run. I hope you like it; some of my best…” more static that lasted for a good few minutes “...--ather angry. Bye!”

And the signal dissolved and he was left alone with his voices, again. Thunder rumbled outside and Sterling’s heart stopped as he watched the light-bulb flicker helplessly before it finally continued its dim but stable glow.

He sighed with relief--he had a light and he was happy.

 

* * *

 

Kiki frowned in her sleep. Outside thunder rumbled lazily. The sound penetrated her dreams, but her mind transmuted it, turning it into an angry voice, filled with rage.

“Give it back! Return to me what is mine!!”

“I cannot return what I never took in the first place!!”

She whimpered in her sleep, tossing and turning, clearly wanting to wake but ensnared in the dreams that plagued her.

At the foot of her bed, a black labrador watched her, whining plaintively. She moved closer and laid her head on the teen’s lap. The girl calmed down a bit.

“Such a good girl, Maera,” said a soft, matronly voice. The dog looked up at the woman who reached down and petted the dog’s head with gentle affection. “You’ll watch over my little one, won’t you?”

The dog huffed an affirmative.

“My family is so scattered...but I have hope that it won’t always be like this. Until then, Kiki...rest while you can.” The woman leaned down to lay a kiss on the sleeping girl’s head.

“Three pieces of silver, worth more together than alone.”

* * *

 

Raymond was regretting his decision. He knew, he knew that he should have said no. He knew that his “friends” really weren’t the best influence on him, but that fact only seemed apparent when he was alone. As soon as he found himself surrounded by his friends, however, it was like his will just...left him.

He let them press him into situations that he should have questioned, but he didn’t. Like, he didn’t question the contents of the red cup that was passed his way.

He didn’t question the acrid taste of alcohol in it, either. He didn’t question the feeling of disorientation. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he realized that he was drunk and he hardly recognized any of the other kids at the party. They were also drunk and some were passed out, some were making out, and yeah...it was that kind of party.

And it wouldn’t have been a fun game of ‘I told you so’ that he was playing with himself if the boys in blue didn’t make a sudden entrance. Someone shouted “Cops!” and kids that were passed out a few moments ago sprang to their feet and he tried to join the mass exodus, but he wasn’t quite so lucky.

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. “Raymond?!”

And to make matters even worse, that hand belonged to his father.


	2. The Gift

_ Chapter 1 -- The Gift _

_ Our deepest wounds surround our greatest gifts --  _ Ken Page

* * *

 

It was days later before the foretold visit from his mother actually happened.  They took him out of solitary and allowed him to shower before he was escorted to the visiting room.  The odd thing was that, in addition to being escorted by the orderlies, one of the ladies in charge of the asylum also escorted him.  

_ Algae Acres _ was under the proprietorship of the Algae sisters; Director Lupita, Doctor Anne, and Head Nurse Arella.  It was Director Lupita who was escorting him, the oldest and worst of the sisters.  It was rare that the administrator would leave her office, but she seemed to take as much pleasure in the suffering of the ‘patients’ as her sisters did.  

“Are you doing alright today, Mister Silver?” asked the director in that way that conveyed a false sense of respect but really it just came off as her talking down to him; no one called a twelve year old ‘mister’ unless said twelve year old was in some kind of trouble, yet she tried to sound friendly about it.  She wore what looked like a white doctor smock, though the material seemed wrong somehow.  Every time he tried to focus on it directly it looked like a normal white smock made from some kind of cloth, however whenever he looked at her with his peripheral vision he was sure that it was leather, not cloth.  “You seem a bit livelier than usual.”

Sterling carefully nodded his head, to indicate that he was fine.  Speaking was a dangerous thing to do; it took him three years to learn that lesson, but he finally learned how to construct the perfect mask.  He was the master of his emotions; no one could see what he didn’t want them to see.  

To wit: if he told them that he had a radio visit from what he suspected was his ‘father’ then he’d have another round of therapy with Dr. Anne...and he was still trying to recover from the  _ last _ time he had therapy with her.  It was days before he was able to remember his name…and she kept him in the darkness.  The thought made him shudder.  

“Still reticent as ever, though.  So, this is the first time in a long time that she’s decided to visit you.  Isn’t that exciting?” she asked, in her kind yet insincere tone.  The truth was, he wasn’t sure how to feel about seeing his mother.  It was three years ago that he was committed to  _ Algae Acres _ .  He wasn’t even willing to leave the house after he was attacked by a teacher.  No one believed that he was attacked by said teacher, and why should they?  Sterling was known for being a tad...unhinged.  Many of his peers thought he was mute due to the fact that he didn’t speak during class.  Even when he was called on he often wouldn’t answer, feigning ignorance, or mumbling to himself until the teacher got impatient and moved on to something else.  

After that incident, he decided to stop leaving the house; nothing made sense in the world anymore.  His teacher was a monster, but no one else could see it or believe it.  It was like finding a rotten apple where you least expected it.  If one person was a monster then who else could be?  No, not leaving the house seemed safer that way, but his mother disagreed and felt that he needed help that she couldn’t give him.  While he wasn’t on the best terms with his mom, he couldn’t help but feel abandoned.  

Even so, Sterling nodded silently, affirming that he was, indeed, excited to see his mother.

“ _ Good _ .  I’m sure she’s taken time out of her busy schedule  _ just _ to see you.  We know how rare it is that she visits,” added the director innocently, “Though it must be a busy job, being the CEO of her own company.”  Sterling gave the woman an askance look; it took him a few months to notice it, but the director was not especially outright cruel.  Not like her sisters, at least.  She had a way of saying things that planted a seed.  Doubt, hatred, pain...it didn’t matter.  The seeds would grow and plant grief; the grief would grow like a weed and attempt to strangle the soul of the person.  Sterling seen it in action...she would whisper something into the ear of a patient and whether it was five minutes or five days later that person would inevitably have some kind of mental break.

He was sure that he went through the same thing, but nowhere near as bad as the others.  It hurt, though; the thought of his mother, abandoning him.  Like he was some worthless piece of garbage to be thrown away.  The voices in his head spoke all at once, saying things that he thought but never actually said out loud.  

 

_ “She only wants to see you suffer.” _

_ “She hates you.” _

_ “She’s evil.” _

_ “Vile!!” _

_ “WHY WON’T YOU JUST DIE?!” _

 

The voices were terrifying, but Sterling did what he always did--he hummed to himself.  Director Lupita glanced sidelong at the twelve year old as he began humming his favorite song.  He didn’t know what it was called, he didn’t really even know the words.  His memory was a more than a little fuzzy thanks to his ‘therapy’ sessions.  He could only assume that the song was his favorite since it was a tune that he could remember easily enough when he had such a hard time remembering anything else.  

It took a few minutes but the voices finally lowered to a murmur.  They weren’t silent, but they stopped saying those hurtful things.

He and the director finally reached the visitor area.  It, like the rest of the building, seemed to be in a state of disrepair.  Only some of the lights worked, the tables were old and dingy, as were the chairs.  The muted television played an advertisement for Monster Donut.  A light flickered and a roach crawled out from under a table and disappeared underneath a bookshelf, but none of that mattered.  Sitting at a table that was perfectly in the middle of the room was his mother. 

She wasn’t an especially tall woman, but what she lacked in height, she more than made up for in presence.  Her skin was an earthy shade of brown, her eyes a surprising dark shade of green.  Her black hair was in a small conservative bun.  

The director escorted him to his seat; instead of giving the two privacy, however, she stepped back to the wall, watching the two with a small silent smile.

His mother gave him a small cursory once over.  “You haven’t been eating.”  

Sterling ducked his head.  “No, ma’am.”

“I’ve also heard that you’ve been attacking the guards.”

“Yes ma’am.  Only the rotten apples dressed as guards.”

“Huh.  Still speaking in riddles, hmmm?”

Sterling slowly looked up at his mother.  Already knowing the answer, he had to ask a certain question.  It was the same question that grated at him every second of every minute of every day for the past three years.  

“When...when am I allowed to leave?”

His mother sighed and dug into her purse.  She pulled out a cigarette and lighter.  He glanced over at Director Lupita, but the other woman didn’t appear to raise any objections to his mother lighting a cigarette in what was supposed to be a psychiatric institute.  

His mother took a long draw and blew out a plume of smoke like a lazy dragon before she shook her head.  The small bit of hope he felt quickly transformed into  cold devastation and transmuted into righteous anger.  

“But this place can’t cure me!  I’m guarded by rotten apples and thorny bushes!  I...I don’t belong here!!” Shouted Sterling, pounding the table, “ I’m being good!  I’ll  _ be _ good!  I’ll promise not to see the things or hear the voices anymore!!”  Sterling's rebellious spirit quickly gave way to desperate pleading partway through his speech.  

Sterling didn’t even realize he was standing until he noticed a guard edging towards him.  As if to make matters worse tears, unbidden, sprang into his eyes.  He tried to keep them reigned in and let out a barely restrained sob.  He sat quickly and buried his head in his arms, his body trembling with emotion.  It was easy to try to keep things in check on most normal days; he could pretend that nothing was real.

His mother’s presence made everything seem so real, though, and it threw his control out the window.  It was easier to pretend that everything that had happened to him was really just happening to someone else.  The terrible food that tasted like cardboard, the dank and cold room he was kept in, the ache in his arms from the straitjackets they put him in whenever it was time to take him down for treatment, the actually mind-numbing torture that  _ was _ his treatment, the soul crushing loneliness that he had to endure every single day that was only abated by the occasional visit from the ‘radio’ voice that he foolishly pretended was his father.     

Madness born from loneliness.

“Please don’t leave me here anymore,” he begged, his voice cracking as he spoke, feeling the tears flow from his face and into his sleeves.  They were hot like molten lava and burned as on their way out.  “ _Please!!_  Please!!”  

“Sterling,” said his mother, voice stern, “Stop your sniveling and look at me.” He looked up as commanded, tears still falling as he hiccuped, attempting to curb his sobbing and only making it worse.  His mother stared at the pitiful mess of a boy, her gaze passionless.  “You know why you must be here.  Your time is not finished just yet.”

Sterling couldn’t help the sting of hurt that so readily pierced his heart.  He knew that it would end this way.  It always did but rejection from his mother always seemed to hurt as much as the first time.  

He tried not to look at Director Lupita, whom seemed to watch the proceedings with a pleased look.  Sterling laid his head on the table again and focused on rebuilding his mask.  It was so hard to do, he almost forgot what it was like to be that calm again.  He had to be smooth like obsidian and hard as diamond.  It was hard to remember how to be that hard, however, when his heart was so ready to break like paper mache.  

He didn’t look up as he felt more than heard something being placed on the table.  Something was slid over to him; the object only stopped once it hit his arm.  He looked up at the plain white box, confused.  It looked like a small jewelry box, like it held perhaps a ring or something.

“Excuse me; the residents are not allowed gifts,” said the director.

“Surely I’m allowed to give my son a cookie,” said his mother, turning her gaze to the director, a patient look on her face.  

Sterling couldn’t help but give his mother a confused look.  He rubbed at his weepy eyes with an overly long sleeve and sniffled noisily.  Letting out a shaky breath he looked at the object again, this time with clear eyes.  Obviously the ring box was not a cookie.  He thought that the director would point that out but instead she frowned before nodding.  

“I suppose cookies  _ are _ allowed…” mused the woman, looking somewhat amused by the thought.  Sterling was smart enough to know that she was appreciating the subtle cruelty in the gesture.  The cookie was a bit of normalcy to remind Sterling of just how horrible his situation was.  

“And he can eat it later; a snack to remind him of how rare it will be that he’ll  _ ever _ be treated so kindly again,” said his mother with a small smirk. It was as if his mother had read his thoughts.  

The doctor grinned and made minimal effort to not seem so pleased.  Sterling was still confused.  He looked at the white box; it clearly wasn’t a cookie.  It likewise wasn’t big enough to house a cookie or even be possibly confused for one.  Was there something that he was missing?  He had to strongly resist the urge to pick up the box and lick it, just to be sure.  

Even if the box was big enough to house a cookie or shaped to resemble a cookie, it wasn’t like the director had looked inside the box to confirm that there was, indeed, a cookie.  That said, why was the director and his mother convinced that there was a cookie on the table and  _ not _ a white box?

“The poor dear child,” said the doctor as she clicked her tongue, “just as well.  Visiting hours are up.”  

Sterling’s mother stood.  She fixed her son with one more stoic look.  “Remember; no dessert until you finish dinner.”

Sterling watched as his mother left.  He heard footsteps approach from behind.  He turned to see Dr. Anne approach and couldn’t help but tremble.  He  _ knew _ what was coming next and in spite of his calm mask, his trembling worsened.   

“And it’s going to be a long time before you have dinner,” said the director from her spot against the wall, her voice calm as the lights flickered.  Dr. Anne’s silhouette did something strange in the dark; it was as if she gained giant bat-like wings.  When the lights came on, however, she looked normal.  

“I hear tale that you lost control of your temper, dear child.  I believe it's time for another round of...therapy,” said Doctor Anne.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Total word count: 3597
> 
> I should hopefully have another upload by "today" (Friday) or Saturday! Stay tuned and let me know what you think so far.


	3. Sterling's Walkabout

_Chapter 2 - Sterling's Walkabout_

_To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering. - Nietzsche_

* * *

 

The first thing that Sterling noticed how dry his mouth and back of his nose felt.

Sterling wasn't sure what time of day it was when he came to. Hell, he wasn't even sure what day it was. He just knew that it hurt to swallow, his mouth was dry, and he was really, really tired.

This was the thing that he hated the most about the treatment he received. Well, aside from the treatment itself. The was very little that could beat having an all encompassing feeling of pain. And not the kind of pain you felt when stubbing your toe, but very deep, soul searing pain. It was like his bones were turned into magma and then super chilled to absolute zero, only for said bones to shatter into hundreds and millions of shards ad infinitum and said shards turned into acid that burrowed into every single part of his body. Every bone, every muscle, every blood cell melted in the most painful way possible.

Only for it to start all over again, and again, and again.

That was the worst because there was never really a moment that he passed out until the whole thing was over. It was only after his treatment session ended that he felt the sweet release of unconsciousness.

The strange thing was...as much as Sterling  _hated_  and feared the treatment, there was a very big part of him enjoyed the peace it gave him. The pain was searing enough to burn the voices out of his head. The darkness of unconsciousness gave him a peace of mind rarely experienced. It was so messed up of him to feel that way, he knew it. It was because of thoughts like that one that made Sterling think that maybe he did belong in a place like this.

Sterling only realized that he'd been staring at the light bulb when he blinked and he could see the after image of the bulb on the back of his eyelids. After he came to that conclusion, he then realized that his eyes had been open for a while because they hurt and felt really dry.

His blink was rather long; more like, he had closed his eyes for a few minutes before he opened them again. He was looking at the light again and he felt a well of emotion bubble up inside of him.

The light meant that he had survived another treatment session. He had his light and he was happy.

Sterling couldn't tell if his survival was a good thing or a bad thing. Eventually down the line he was going to have another treatment session. He had the same four white walls, the same bland food, the same rotten apples and thorny bushes guarding him. Nothing was changed by his survival, nor did it lead to the promise of there being anything better.

So why was he so happy for surviving? Was he just masochistic? Did he enjoy the pain?

Sterling bursted out laughing.

The action  _hurt_. His throat was sore from screaming, his chest felt tender enough that drawing the breath to laugh had actually hurt as well, but he couldn't help it. "I'm such...an idiot!" he said between gales of laughter. He closed his eyes and sighed as the desire to laugh passed as quickly as it came and he let out a sob. He held his breath, as if the action could hold back a wave of tears.

He hated his tears.

The voices in his head hissed in agreement-they all hated the tears. Crying was what  _they_  had wanted from him, after all. It was his tears and wailing that the sisters waited for. Director Lupita, Dr. Anne, Head Nurse Arella. Each three seemed to try to out cruel the next one. They hardly even pretended to want to treat him anymore; they liked bringing him misery.

There was nothing he could do in his current situation, but he could do his damndest to deny them that small pleasure at least.

By the time he felt the need to breathe, the need to cry had passed. Sterling opened his eyes again and looked at the light one more time before he finally noticed something else; the box from his mother's visit was on the floor.

A change. A pebble dropped in a placid lake that shattered the peace by creating ripples. To what end would these ripples form?

Sterling slowly pushed himself up and crawled towards the box. He sniffed it before licking it; definitely not a cookie. He opened the box with a crisp snap and was surprised to see that it was an earring. It was in the shape of a ball; bronze with designs that resembled flowers made of gold and some kind of dark metal.

Strange.

Definitely not a cookie, but an earring. Sterling's left ear was pierced, however he wasn't allowed to wear his earring, or any jewelry really. He always thought it strange that the hole never closed, but he figured that it might have been a blessing in disguise.

He placed the earring into his ear. As he pushed the earring into the post, he could hear a small  _click_.

Suddenly his world was yellow.

Sterling blinked. He was suddenly wearing yellow visors. He took the visors off and stared at them; the sides had a winding flowery filigree design; the vines and leaves of the flowers were made with the black metal, the flowers themselves were golden, while the body of the visors were a bronze shade.

Sterling shook his head before replacing the visors.

"Sterling," the boy jumped at the sound of the voice of his mother. An image appeared on the lens of the visors. It was his mother. "We don't have much time, so listen very carefully because what happens next can make the difference between whether you live or die."

"You need to escape. I've kept you here, in this place for your own protection. You were born…" his mother looked away from the camera and Sterling's heart stopped as he saw an expression on his mother's face that seemed so alien that he didn't entirely recognize it. "You were born with a curse. You are not fully human, yet not fully divine. Something in-between. You have so much potential to become powerful but you are so weak. You couldn't protect yourself and I couldn't protect you. So, I put you in the one place where you would be safe."

Safe? The word echoed throughout his mind. It was like a pebble dropped into his mind and it created a never ending ripple that turned into a cascade that turned into a wave and it washed over him. He was so overwhelmed that he didn't know how to react.

Everything about this place provided evidence that this place was anything but safe.

"Either way...what once protected you is now too dangerous. You must run. The power to the building will be shut down for approximately ten minutes after ten pm tonight. The visors will show you your path. Follow it without question, without hesitation, and you will be safe." His mother looked back into the camera and seemed as if she was going to say something before she shook her head. "Do not get caught."

* * *

Sterling watched the video two more times, trying to decide if what he'd seen was real. It didn't even occur to the boy that he was looking at a recording until the video started over. Sterling touched the earring and the visors...disappeared. Well, no; they seemed to become less real, disassembling into a wire frame before that faded back into his earring.

Sterling trembled. ' _Should I stay or…'_

" _Should I go now?"_ crooned some of his voices.

" _Should I stay or should I stay or should I go now?"_

" _If I go there will be trouble!"_

"And if I stay there will be double…" he whispered, letting out a shaky breath. "So come on and let me know…" Sterling looked up at the light. He wasn't sure how long he sat there staring at the light, but suddenly it went out. The dying whine of machinery slowly winding down eventually subsumed into a silence only interrupted by the boy's startled breathing. Sterling held his breath and closed his eyes, watching as the after image of the light slowly fade into darkness, trying his best to will it to stay.

Like everything else that was good in his life, it had faded.

Thunder rumbled outside. A tension filled the room; it was the tension of possibility. The storm was brewing, had been for the past few hours, and now it was deciding whether or not it should burst. And Sterling wasn't sure if he should stay or go. Either way, a decision had to be made. Sterling was growing light-headed when he finally released the breath that he was holding.

Sterling stood.

The door to his room opened, as did all the other doors in solitary. Red emergency lights flickered on, some only staying lit for a few moments before dying. Some bulbs bursted and ineffectual sputtered a spring of sparks. Sterling could hear the other patients stirring, moving, whispering to themselves and each other, wondering what was going on.

Sterling reached out and touched his earring and the visor formed, building itself out of light before becoming solid. As he stood, Sterling watched as an arrow drew itself along the ground and curving right. Sterling took a few shaky steps forward before he pushed himself to continue forward. If he stopped...he was going to go back. He knew it. The voices in his head were whispering for him to go back, urging him to hide in the room. Maybe the light would come back, maybe this was just a test, maybe…

Sterling took a deep breath and then took his first step outside of the room. The heavens opened; the raindrops that hit the building was the applause of approval. Even though his heart thudded, even though he was terrified out of his mind, he knew that he was making the right choice.

He followed the arrow down the hallway. All of the cell doors were open and people were streaming out, unsure of how much to trust their newfound freedom.

Sterling kept walking until he reached the end . He peeked outside; outside of their wing was a communal area. One other wing fed into this area which, in turn, had a hallway that led to the rest of the compound. Sterling knew the layout of the building like the back of his hand.

The arrow didn't cut right across the room like he thought it would-instead, it directed him to the outskirt of the room. Lightning flashed outside, briefly lighting up the room, showing that some orderlies were inside, blindly trying to find their way around.

And a nurse was heading his head. Holding his breath, Sterling slipped out, gently closing the door behind him and crawling towards the wall. From the feel of her she was a rotten apple…

He felt bad for the other patients that he was leaving behind, but he couldn't take them with him. They wouldn't understand...he knew that he couldn't even take care of himself, let alone another patient.

An arrow pointed down and it took Sterling a second before he lowered himself onto the ground. The arrow kept pointing down until his chest was flush against a floor that hadn't been swept or mopped in such a long time that it should have been criminal.

Sterling grimaced at the feel of the floor-simultaneously sticky and grimy, succeeding very handedly in making him feel disgusting. But, he crawled forward.

He was halfway through the room when lightning flashed, briefly lighting up the room again. Because he was flush against the wall, he was still hidden in shadow. If he was standing (like he would have been, had his visors not instructed him better) then he definitely would have been spotted.

Sterling watched the orderlies. There was some commotion from behind before the door slammed open and a bunch of his fellow patients came rushing out into the room.

"Orderlies!" cried a nurse and for a solid ten seconds, there was nothing but chaos. Lightning flashed twice, lighting up scenes of pure bedlam. Since the patients were out, they wanted to play in the common room. Apparently they didn't take too friendly to an attempt to get them back in their cells.

There was a meaty thud as a man fell in front of Sterling. The two stared at each other before the man screamed shrilly.

Startled, Sterling crawled away. He had to give up the refuge that the wall offered as he scrambled under a flimsy card table. The man stood and started towards Sterling before two burly orderlies gripped the man by the arms and tried to restrain him. The man struggled against him, his panic giving him a sudden burst of strength.

Strength granted by emotion was no match for the hard earned bulk and muscle of the two orderlies, who summarily slammed the man on the ground. One orderly extended a baton with a flick of his wrist. Sterling turned away and clenched his eyes shut at the sound of the baton slamming into flesh. The patient squealed in pain and begged for mercy, but the guard continued to hit the man.

A giant red exclamation mark appeared on his visors and Sterling took the warning for what it was. He scrambled from underneath the table right in time for an orderly to get slammed on top of it. The card table, already the very definition of flimsy, gave way to the sudden introduction of the man's weight. Sterling continued forward, feeling sick with fear, but he knew that if he went back then he would stay in that dark room and he would never leave and…

There were screams of panic and shouts of orderlies and nurses trying to work together to quell the sudden uprising. Sterling was almost at the exit when his visor flashed and he threw himself to the wall. He flattened against it in time for more orderlies to come charging into the room, led by Doctor Anne. One of the white clad men blew a whistle, the shrill sound cutting through the din.

Normally that would have been enough to get even the most ornery patient to calm down, but everyone was too far gone at this point. "Forward, men!" she shouted. The lightning flashed and for a second she wasn't human- _but instead she had white leathery wings and fangs meant for rending flesh, eyes that glowed a baleful shade of orange and-_ she was human again. The orderlies drew their batons. "We shall ensure that they suffer for their insolence." As one the men extended their batons. "But remember...their physical suffering is mine to enjoy, and mine alone."

The orderlies charged into the chaos. "And the boy's suffering will be the cherry on top," she said to herself.

Sterling knew that he was 'the boy'. As far as he knew, he was the only patient his age at  _Algae Acres_. The fact that she was looking for him...that told him that he had a limited amount of time before it was discovered that he was gone.

He slipped out of the door and into the dark hallway, his body shaking with nerves and fear. He blindly followed the arrow for a few moments, glad that his visors knew the way. He couldn't think through the panic right now-he could just act.

He only came to a stop when a red exclamation point appeared on the screen of his visor. A second later light splashed against the wall just in front of him-someone was coming down the adjacent hall and had flashlights.

"Knowing her, she's probably already started to quell the disturbance…"

Head Nurse Arella. Sterling looked around before spotting the door to the women's restroom. He silently ducked inside.

"...we should get over there to help out," continued Nurse Arella, her voice louder.

"No," snapped Director Lupita, her voice lashing out like a snapped rubber band. "Take a few of the men to see what happened to the power. I suspect foul play. I'll back up Anne. We can't let her have the boy all to herself, after all. He's been the most vibrant source of…"

Their voices faded as they got further away. Sterling let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding.

His trembling increase. He listened for any footsteps. When he didn't hear anything, he slowly pushed the door open and peeked out before ducking back inside. Orderlies were stalking the halls. They had flashlights. He couldn't got that way.

He couldn't wait, though…

' _Should I stay or should I go now?'_ he thought, trying hard not to give into panic. He turned around, looking around the dark bathroom and his gaze stopped on the large window. He couldn't see outside since it was opaque safety glass. Lightning flashed, thunder rumbled, Sterling trembled.

He tried to lift the window but wouldn't budge. He tried again, straining with all of his might...which didn't amount to much. His arms were aching and he stopped, panting from the effort.

Hallways filled with orderlies. Trapped in a bathroom. He looked around the dark bathroom-the only source of light being his visor. The building was old enough that some of the piping was visible on the ceiling. He could pull a pipe down and...and…

' _Smash the glass? I don't think I'm strong enough to do that, or actually get the pipe down…'_ he thought with a small frown.

The lights were still out. He could try to sneak past the guards, but that wasn't going to work out too well for him. Sterling gave the window a lingering look before he walked over. Brute strength wasn't going to be his answer, here. He climbed up on the lip of the window...if it wasn't brute force, he would have to be smart about it.

He looked at the lock.

 _"Looks familiar,"_ whispered some of the voice in his head.  _"Too bad you're stupid. You don't even know what it's called..."_

"It's a UPVC lock," he said to himself. A grid appeared across the screen of his visors and it scanned the lock before a box appeared next to it.

**[Status: Broken]**

Sterling blinked. Well, that was pretty useful. "Yeah," said Sterling aloud, "The handle is missing." He reached up and touched the space where the handle should have been. It was supposed to keep people from unlocking the window, but they didn't know Sterling. He touched the window and closed his eyes, an inkling of an idea forming.

* * *

Luckily for Sterling, the bathroom came equipped with its own closet. And in said closest was the typical cleaning supplies one would expect to find along with a tool kit, which was the first bit of good luck he'd had in a long time. He grabbed the metallic box and walked back over to the window. In no time he found the first tool he needed; a flat head screwdriver.

"Need to pry out the seal," he said to himself as he climbed on the ledge of the window, artfully slipping the screwdriver right underneath the handless gearbox, easily finding purchase and pulling the sealing up.

 _"Oooo, look at the brain on Sterling! Such a bright boy."_ Hissed the voices. Sterling simply hummed in response.

"Next, need Allen key," the boy dropped back down to the floor and dutifully dug through the tool box, his visors scanning the tools he picked up. Anything that didn't match what he needed was highlighted in red until he picked up a thin, long Allen key that was just right. It was highlighted in green.

He climbed back up and slipped the key into the gap left by the removed seal. He turned the "L" shaped in the key towards the rotor lock. He moved the key around, trying to find purchase on the rotor lock.

"THE BOY IS GONE!" screeched a voice. He wasn't sure who it was, but the voice was nothing but pure rage. "FIND HIM! FIND HIM NOW!" the voice was so angry that it almost didn't sound human. Sterling shook harder and almost dropped the key, but he somehow managed to remain focused.

The edge of the Allen key found the lock. Sterling applied pressure and tried to move it to the left. It didn't move. He moved it right...and slowly the rusty lock started to open. He gave it a sharp yank and the top half of the window opened outwards.

Right at that moment there was a large crash of thunder and it sounded louder and the rain smelled so fresh and…

Sterling was climbing out of the window before he could stop to think about it. He paused long enough to slip the screwdriver and Allen key into his pocket.

The was a slick ledge for his feet. He didn't have to look down to know that jumping was a bad idea. He needed to find another window. Another way in, hopefully past the guard. He shimmied along the wet edge, his body pelted by fat, cold drops of rain that felt insidiously cold. His face was pressed against the rough wall as he continued his journey. ' _Father, please don't let me fall,'_  he thought with as much fierceness as he could muster.

His heart beat wildly in his chest, he was shaking so much that he was convinced that he was going to fall, but he kept moving forward, somehow. Somehow through it all his visors didn't fall from his face.

Finally his right hand felt the ledge of a window. He opened his eyes. He was near a pair of ornate French windows. He knew those windows...they sat right behind Director Lupita's desk in her main office.

He glanced instead; still dark. There was no telling who was in there...if anyone at all, but this was as good a place as any. His clothes were soggy, he was getting hired, and his limbs were getting numb from the cold wet rain. Any longer and he'd fall.

He shimmied out further and tried to push the windows open but they didn't budge. He wondered if he could pick the lock from outside, but he really didn't think he had the dexterity.

There was a strange moment when the storm seemed to pause, abating as if to take in a deep breath, then a powerful surge of wind slapped the building. He was pushed against the glass with such force that the windows were forced to slam open inward. Sterling stumbled across the desk, the windows shattered upon hitting the walls inside.

Sterling groaned in pain but forced himself to stand. He ran towards the door and peeked outside. There were flashlights already shining in his direction.

An arrow appeared on his visors, pointing down the opposite side of the hall. Sterling ran, following the arrow's direction.

"There he is!"

"I think I spotted him heading this way!"

"Don't let him escape!"

Sterling almost lost his footing as he wildly turned a corner. The hallway ended with a single door. In the light provided by the visors he could read that it was labeled with two simple words:  **ROOF ACCESS**.

Sterling ran forward and tried to pull the door opened, but it didn't budge. It was locked. He turned back and could see a splash of light splash on the perpendicular wall-they were going to be here soon. They were going to corner him. He was trapped, like a rat. He looked around for something he could use.

Nothing!

Sterling yanked on the locked down again and again, a sob of frustration and despair ripping out of him. He couldn't go back to that room! He wouldn't survive the punishment this time, he was sure of it, he was..

' _Please, father, help me!'_

Would it really work, reaching out to something that was just a voice in his head. Something that he just created so that he wouldn't be alone all the time, something that he really thought was his father sometimes, though it didn't make sense since fathers didn't contact their sons the way his did, because not only was it impossible but he wasn't sure that he would be able to take the thought that his father knew of his suffering and simply left him there to suffer.

But he felt the need to try anyways.

' _Please!'_  he cried out again in his mind.

"DAD!" he found himself screaming. "SAVE ME!"

And this time when he yanked, the door flew open. Sterling hit the ground and looked up at the ajar door with surprise.

"He's around the corner!"

Sterling scrambled forward.

"Hey!" shouted a voice behind him but he didn't turn to look, instead slamming the door behind him, where it closed with a satisfying click. A second later there was a thud as someone tried to bash the door down with their body. A light flickered on ahead, revealing a one-way stairwell. Of course it only went up. The staircase was pretty wide...a fact that he idly reflected on as he rushed up to the top, where another door awaited him.

He shouldn't have been surprised that when he gave it a push that it didn't budge at all, soundly locked.

"Father?" he asked. "Dad, can you...please?" he asked, his voice breaking towards the end.

Instead of an unlocked door, thunder rumbled overhead and it felt so close and so loud that the building shook with the force of it. The light flickered and actually went out completely before coming back on.

"Please, I ...please unlock. I…" Sterling tried to swallow the sob but he came out anyways. He didn't want it to come to this.

More sobs came when he heard the door at the bottom of the stairs unlock.

Even as his shoulders shook, he turned to face the three faces that stared up at him.

The light flickered and- _they weren't human, their faces were the palest shade of white like bone bleached by exposure to the elements for far too long, their eyes as red as blood, their fangs long, faces drawn and hollow and-_ they were human again. Sterling wiped at his face with his sleeve.

"Well,"

"...well…"

"...well," said each sister.

"What have we here?" asked Directa Lupita.

"An ungrateful little brat!" hissed Doctor Anne.

"Someone in need of punishment," agreed Nurse Arella.

"Hmm...yessssss," hissed Director Lupita. She reached into her coat and drew out a whip. Her sisters stepped back as Director Lupita stepped forward. She uncoiled the whip in a simple motion. Sterling stepped back when the whip caught fire. Just...what was his  _life_  right now?

"Is this actually real?" he asked, unable to believe his eyes. Before he could even begin to make sense of that, the director lashed out towards him.

Sterling felt like he was punched by a truck; the whip lashed across his chest and threw him back with enough force to slam into the door behind him. The door flew off the hinges and the metal made a loud sound as it scraped across the roof.

Sterling cried out; regardless if this was real or not, it  _felt_  real. It took him a few moments to remember how to breath. With each breath it felt like glass was being pushed through his chest. He wondered if he broke something. But he didn't have time to consider that anymore. He had to  _move._

By the time Sterling stood up, the sisters emerged from the building. Rainwater hissed as it touched Director Lupita's flaming whip.

"I'm not going back there," he said simply voice flat, but his trembling evident. He was terrified and he couldn't hide it.

"Sweet child. Do you really believe that you have any control here?" cooed Director Lupita. Sterling continued to try to back away, but he was running out of ideas. He was hurt. He was tired. He was wet and cold.

He...was at the ledge of the building. He looked down. Lightning flashed. He could see something below...it looked like a truck. He looked back up at the sisters and for the first time since entering  _Algae Acres_  he actually smiled.

"No need for control when I decide to remove myself from the board." And with that he tipped over the side.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Three.
> 
> Words Typed Today: 4,895
> 
> Words Total: 8,492.


	4. The Dreamer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> I totally meant to upload yesterday, but that totally didn't happened. I did do some writing but I didn't have enough that I wanted to post. It only just now occurred to me that I don't have to post every day for NaNoWriMo, but I have to confess that this is kind of fun. I don't think I'll be able to keep up a daily update schedule, but I've been kicking around the idea of this story for a while. So, if nothing else, this kind of writing is forcing me to get some ideas down on paper. 
> 
> Honestly, I don't think I should run into trouble until I run into canon plot. Also, sometimes my stories tend to have a slow burn at first--I apologize for all of the set-up, but I can't help it. 
> 
> Do feel free to leave a review, though! While I'm going to write regardless, it'll be nice to get some feedback on if folks like the story or not.
> 
> Thank you all for reading!! Word count at the end.

 

* * *

_Chapter 3 - The Dreamer_

_It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves. - William Shakespeare_

* * *

_Two men wrestling; one from above with dark clouds, thunder and lightning at his beck and call, the other standing in the sea, a giant; the very earth shook with his shouts. Waves crashed and the sea frothed even as the sky seemed to be torn asunder._

_Kiki's perspective sank below the ground; a dark place. Dark cliffs, dark crevices, where a third man looked up; the cacophony of thunder and lightning and roaring seas was muted but not unheard. He was biding his time...waiting…_

_And lower still she sank. Into the outer darkness. It was a horrible place, she wanted to leave immediately, but it felt like she couldn't pull away. She knew it was a dream, but her heart was pounding as she felt a crushing pressure build. If she went any closer she feared that she would be consumed._

" _Soon…" said a voice. "Soon. The promised day is almost upon us."_

_The darkness faded. She was in what she could only assume was the ruins of a building. The floor was made of marble. In front of her, behind her, and to her left and right were archways, but aside from that there was no other sign of a building. Featureless plains laid beyond._

_She walked to the door to archway on her left; it was made out of three different kinds of metal; bronze overall with gold and black leaf trim and flowers carved out of what seemed to be crystals. It was beautiful. As she got closer to the archway, however, the scene before her was anything but._

_A boy tied down in what seemed to be a straight jacket. He was hooked up to a sinister looking machine. Pads were taped to the sides of his head. He looked scared but he couldn't speak; there was a mouthpiece stopping that._

" _You do not deserve the light. You will stay in darkness until you learn how to behave yourself," said a woman, a doctor. "All boys are bad. It is...axiomatic." She turned on the machine and screams of pain that came from the boy was just too much, too heartbreaking. The scariest thing was the very calm, serene smile on the woman's face. It wasn't particularly cruel-in fact it was a little sad, however it was easy to see that the woman had no qualms with the pain she was visiting upon the boy. "The rending of your sorrow will be heard. Your misery, the sweetest sacrifice."_

_Kiki backed away and the image faded._

_The other archway, opposite of the one she just left, appeared to have been made out of stone at first, however as she approached the stone began to glow. She could hear music drifting from the archway and light pooled in the entryway until it formed an image. A young teen, probably around her age. He appeared to be Asian, probably a bit of an athlete judging from his svelte build. He was playing a guitar. It took her a second to recognize the song._

" _Oh I, I tell you something. I think you'll understand…" he was pretty good and his voice sounded amazing. It was the exact opposite of the prior scene-the boy seemed to be in such an idyllic scene she couldn't see what was wrong, if anything. There was a knock on the boy's door before a man entered. "Ray, stop with all that noise. Did you finish your homework yet?"_

_The boy stopped playing and looked up. "Uh, not yet dad…"_

" _And why the hell not? What did we talk about?" asked the man, placing his hands on his hips, stepping into the room._

" _Responsibility," said Ray, his face blank._

" _That's right, responsibility. If we have this conversation again, you lose the guitar."_

_The man left the room, slamming the door behind him and Ray threw the guitar on the bed and smacked a trophy off of his desk in frustration._

_She backed away from the scene._

" _You can chose to live your life as it is now…" whispered a voice behind her. She turned and found herself facing another archway where she saw an image of herself; dressed in her much hated Catholic schoolgirl uniform and looking bored to death. Her hair was plain black, her normally vibrant green eyes hidden behind a pair of black framed glasses, her ears free of piercings._

" _Or…" said the same voice, still a whisper, behind her again. She turned to face the last archway; she looked more like herself. A black sleeveless top with the image of Jack Skellington decorating the shirt, which worn underneath a black hoodie; a plaid pleated skirt with knee-high converses. Her hair had her preferred red and blonde highlights. "You can chose to be the real you. Either way, you'll have to make a choice soon, Kiki. Their lives may very well depend on it. Three pieces of silver, worth more together than they are apart. It is only when combined that their journey shall start..."_

And with that she woke up with a gasp.

* * *

Kiki only just managed to close her eyes before her alarm went off. Cursing her odd dreams, the teen slapped her alarm clock until it finally fell silent. Kiki might have simply stayed in bed if Maera hadn't jumped on top of her and began licking her face.

"Ugh, okay, I'm up, I'm up!" shouted the girl, gently shoving the black labrador off of her.

Getting ready for school was done with mechanical familiarity. Maera kept Kiki from climbing back into bed, as usual, nudging her along by gently using her head to shove the teen along or softly barking at the girl whenever she paused for too long. Soon enough she was stomping downstairs, dressed in her school uniform and ready to go. The uniform wasn't one that Kiki would have picked, but she figured that was kind of the point; it consisted of a white blouse with red tie, a black blazer with red piping. A grey pleated skirt with matching knee-high socks completed the outfit. She had her choice of "sensible" business casual dress shoes. Her feet longed for the secure feeling of a pair of combat boots, but instead she was left wearing a pair of sensible Mary Janes.

"There you are, dear. I was worried that you weren't getting up," said her father, leaning over to kiss the side of her head as he passed her. The man was tall, towering over most people. Born to Greek immigrants, he had olive skin, think black curly hair, and green eyes that sparkled with mischief. Neither of his parents were sure whom to attribute his height to, seeing as how they were both short, but it was no surprise that he had passed his height on to his daughter.

Kiki inherited most of his features, including the height (much to her chagrin). She wasn't as tall as him yet, but she was the tallest girl in her class and she was sure to only grow taller as time went on. It made her stand out in a way that she didn't quite appreciate. Her black hair was styled in a pixie cut, her eyes a little more vibrant shade of green.

"Yeah, well, Maera wouldn't let me sleep in," said the girl with a sigh, shooting a glare at the black lab. The dog seemed way too pleased and gave a satisfied bark.

"Good girl," said her father, tossing a piece of bacon towards the dog. Maera snapped the bacon out of the air. "Breakfast. Then I'll ride you to school."

"Ride me to school? A little unusual," remarked the girl, fixing her plate and sitting at the table. "What's the deal?" Her father snapped open his newspaper and started to skim the articles.

"Ah, well, apparently someone escaped from  _Algae Acres_  last night."

"The asylum?" asked Kiki around a mouthful of food.

"The one and the same. They said that the escapee was pretty dangerous."

"That's odd-but that's why you're driving me to school?"

"Well, I figure better safe than sorry." He peeked over the top of his newspaper and Kiki rolled her eyes.

There was no room for argument there; Kiki wasn't really in the mood to argue-she wasn't going to turn down a ride to school. She thought that her father might have been overreacting a bit, but he always was a little overprotective.

He found a way to insert himself into each aspect of her life, even going so far to become the only male "den mother" of her girl scout troup. It earned him brownie points with all of the other moms, but to Kiki it just served as another bar to the gilded cage that was her life.

The ride to school was uneventful and she kissed her father goodbye as she climbed out. "Hey, kiddo-I might be a little late today, so feel free to order out tonight. Text me when you get in and no going out tonight, okay?"

"But dad, I wanted to study tonight over Sasha's," she said, trying not to pout. Her dad valued logic and reason-arguments based on 'because I want to' really didn't get her far.

"Well, with this whole thing going on with  _Algae Acres_  I'd feel safer if you went straight home, Kiks."

"Yes, sir. Straight home after school. I'll see you later!"

Kiki watched her father drive over before she turned towards the school, barely hiding a grimace as she marched towards the front entrance. Already there were students gathering around, some meeting and talking with friends before heading inside. She passed by The Clique; they were some of the most popular kids in school.

She almost stumbled when she caught sight of Raymond Kim. Between his athletic prowess (particularly notable since he was only a sophomore and was already making waves, making varsity for the school's football team) and his good looks, he was pretty popular. Plus, he tended to be a nice guy all around and the recent star in Kiki's dreams, much to her chagrin.

It was the same dream again...the dream where she say Raymond playing music and having a moment with his father and the dream about the other boy being tortured by a doctor. She...wasn't sure what the dreams meant just yet, but it bothered her.

She must have stared too long before Raymond glanced up and their eyes met. Ray's current girlfriend, Jennifer Benedict, looked to see what caught her boyfriend's attention and glared when she spotted Kiki. Looking away, Kiki blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and hurried off into the school.

There was safety in anonymity. Being one of the tallest in her class really didn't help on that front, but she managed to make it to her locker without incident.

It wasn't until she turned to leave that she bumped into somebody and it was there was a sudden flash….

_...a body slammed into something hard and metallic. They were sliding off already, only just managing to grab onto the ledge. Lightning flashed and there was an inhuman shriek. Three figures above, what looked like a curl of flame lashed out, and then they were falling again…_

Kiki blinked and she was gasping on the ground. She looked around for the person that she had bumped into, but didn't see anyone.

"Hey, Kiki...you alright?"

"Oh, I'm okay Briar. I just...got a little dizzy."

Briar was one of her few friends at school. His strawberry blonde hair was designed in a fauxhawk and had friendly blue eyes. He seemed like a cool guy and seemed to know just about everyone, but he wasn't one of the popular kids.

The ubiquitous and garishly orange sash (and matching police cap) he wore that said 'hall monitor' went a long way in explaining why; Briar was earnest in a lot of ways and managed to gain the reputation of being a "goody-two shoes". Kiki thought that he was pretty fair; just as many kids saw him as a force to be avoided, he really seemed to take the school's anti-bullying stance to heart and tried to make the school a safe place.

There  _really_  needed to be more people like that, in her opinion.

"Do you need me to take you to the nurse? You're looking a little out of it," asked Briar, his eyebrows scrunching together. He knelt to help pick up some of Kiki's books.

"Oh, no, just...not really sleeping well lately."

"Midterms?"

"Midterms," agreed Kiki with a relieved smile because, really, one couldn't say " _Sorry, I'm suffering from a lack of sleep due to a series of incredibly weird dreams, one of which involves Raymond Kim, the other one some boy I've never met before. Oh, and I seem to think that some manifestations of the elements are fighting each other and that, if they actually do fight, that could somehow spell doom for us. You know, completely normal stuff"_ Yeah, no, that just wasn't going to fly.

"Thanks for the assist," she said, accepting the books from Briar, "I should run, though. I don't want to be late for class."

"Yeah, especially since…" Briar paused, glancing furtively down the hallway. That caught Kiki's interest-Briar never seemed to look worried. He was...a fairly confident guy, when it came down to it. She figured it was a 'senior' kind of thing-the guy was close to having made it through four years of highschool hell and was finally on his way to bigger and better things, so maybe that it was it.

"Since what?" she prompted. Briar gestured with his head for them to walk before setting off down the hall. Kiki easily fell into step.

"Well...you didn't hear it from me, but some staff from Algae Acres will be here later today. Have you heard about what happened last night?"

"Uh, yeah. Something about a patient escaping. They don't...actually think that the patient is  _here_ , do they?"

Briar shrugged. "That'd be the theory, I guess."

"But...wouldn't an adult that just escaped from there look out of place here in a school?"

"Who's to say that it was an adult that escaped?" replied Briar.

That...was a good point, actually. "Okay. If they believe this person to be a danger, why not evacuate the school?"

"Maybe they don't want to spook the kid?" suggested Briar. "Either way, do me a favor-if you spot anything weird or anyone out of place, let me know first?" Kiki raised an eyebrow and gave Briar a questioning look.

The hall monitor just flashed a winning smile. "Hey, the hall monitors are trained to handle all manner of situations. If it's a kid closer to our age, we might be able to keep them still long enough for the professionals to step in. Anyways, this looks like you."

Briar paused next to the classroom where Kiki would undergo an unhealthy amount of sitting and listening, with a dose of attempting to read and hoping that she wasn't called out in class to actually dictate a passage.

"Thanks, B."

"You're welcome, K," replied Briar, winking at the girl before leaving.

* * *

History class was about as boring as Kiki grew to expect, but she managed to avoid having to read out loud, so she was fine.

She was dyslexic. It was frustrating because soon as people heard that, though immediately seemed to make the assumption that she was stupid, which she really wasn't. She considered herself to be quite the bookworm, but it didn't always start out like that. She got it down to the point where she taught herself to recognize certain words based off of the length of the word and the context of the sentence. Sometimes she just managed to guess her way through a sentence.

It was...difficult, but doable. If she prepped the night before she usually did a lot better since she could just go off of memory. Even so, just because she found workarounds to her issue meant that she enjoyed the activity any more.

Nothing interesting happened until a few periods later when the principal entered the classroom. He was followed by three strangers. One was a woman wearing a doctor's smock, which covered a blue blouse. A black pencil skirt, dark stockings, and sensible heels finished the outfit. She seemed to be about her father's age, if Kiki had to guess-though there was something about the woman that seemed to tug at her, as if she was the answer to a test question that she  _should_  have known the answer to but couldn't guess it. Accompanying her were two men who were tall and solidly built. They were white uniforms and seemed to look simultaneously bored and ready to pounce on someone at a moment's notice.

Even though the class was quiet before, a notable hush fell over the room. No one whispered to their neighbor, no one was looking at their cellphones-everyone's eyes were on the new comers.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your class, students," started the principal, "but I'm sure most, if not all of you heard about some of the commotion that has plagued our quiet little community. This is Doctor Anne Algae from  _Algae Acres_. Last night a patient receiving treatment escaped from their facility…"

"I'm sorry, Principal Walters, but if I may?" asked the doctor, her voice refined and so sickenly sweet and suddenly she remembered with a start why this woman looked so familiar, because she  _sounded_  familiar.

" _The rending of your sorrow will be heard. Your misery, the sweetest sacrifice."_

Yes, and she had that same serene smile on her face, even as she spoke. "The patient's name is Sterling Silver. He's a young boy, the age of some of you I'm sure." She smiled kindly, even as she snapped suddenly and the orderlies began passing out papers.

Kiki knew what was going to be on the paper even before she received a copy; it was a picture of the boy they were looking for. Sterling Silver…

_...Three pieces of silver…_

It was hard to recognize his face when he wasn't looking terrified or in abject pain, but even then one could see that this boy had been through some sort of ordeal. Bags under his eyes, gaunt cheeks, his skin looked dry, his lips chapped from a lack of water.

Kiki frowned. "Doesn't HIPAA have something to say about releasing this kind of information?" she couldn't help but ask.

"I'm sorry, Miss Argyris, but what do hippos have to do with anything?" asked her teacher.

"No, not-ugh, not hippos, but the  _Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act_?"

"My, what a smart little  _morsel_  you have here," said Doctor Anne, turning to smile at the teacher and principal and winked as if they were in on some joke. "The law doesn't prohibit releasing information to the public that might aid in the apprehension of an escaped patient, who is as much a danger to himself as he is to others. In escaping last night he beat up a number of his fellow patients and a few members of staff."

"He doesn't look like he could beat up a pillow," rebuted Kiki, unsure of why she felt the suicidal need to keep drawing attention to herself, "besides, you have more than just his photo here...you have height, weight, blood type, why would-"

"As I explained, dear," in three sharp strides, Doctor Anne was standing in front of Kiki, "this boy is a danger to society and himself. If we do not catch him now, who knows what trouble he can get into. All boys are bad, afterall. It's  _axiomatic_." Then the doctor did something weird. She leaned in and smelled Kiki. The girl leaned back and looked around to see if anyone else saw what had just happened, but Doctor Anne was already on the move.

The doctor smiled once more before turning away, her hungry gaze sweeping over the classroom. "Yes. All boys are bad. I'm sure you were a bad boy at one time, principal?" she asked.

The portly man blushed and huffed, managing to look simultaneously offended and embarrassed. "Doctor Algae, I hardly believe that this is appropriate."

"Of course you were," continued the doctor, ignoring that the man spoke, "And all bad boys need help to behave better. This one...just happens to be the worst of all. Any help in finding him will be appreciated. You will see some additional people searching the premises...this is not unusual. As soon as you see this boy, please feel free to approach any of my orderlies. They'll be more than happy to help."

And with that, the doctor, her orderlies, and the principal left. Kiki had broken out in a cold sweat and finally relaxed into her seat. Her heart was pounding and adrenaline coursed through her veins; it felt like electricity. She realized that she was ready for a fight. The doctor...had felt so dangerous.

Kiki looked down at the picture of the boy and the world felt so surreal. She dreamed of that boy and that doctor...what were the chances?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 3553
> 
> Total Word Count: 12,045


	5. Shuffle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  I'm not pleased with how this chapter turned out, but I already spent two days without updating, like the horrible person I am, so I wanted to get this out!  
> 
> So, today I came across some of my old notes for this story and there were a few scenes that I came across that I still wanted to use.  Some would have taken place in the earlier chapters, however some I can still use.  All-in-all, it was a good find, but not one soon enough.  Maybe once this is all done I'll swing back and revamp a few areas.  I know that some of this isn't my best execution, so it'll be fun to eventually do a revamp or find a way to work some of these ideas into the current story still.  

 

* * *

 

_Chapter 4 - Shuffle_

_Words are but the signs of ideas - Samuel Johnson._

* * *

" _No friends. No social life. Just practice, school, and the games. Aside from that, Raymond, your social life is dead for the foreseeable future."_

His father's words echoed through Raymond's head.

" _I can't believe it. My son, caught drinking!"_

It wasn't his father's anger that really bothered Raymond, though.

" _I raised you to be more responsible than this! You're so busy trying to make those other kids like you, but you're just making a fool of yourself. You got your heads in the clouds and I need you focused straight ahead. I want you to have a bright future, but every slip up now endangers that!"_

Even getting tackled wasn't enough to jar the thoughts loose.

"Hey, you okay RK?" asked one of the cornerbacks, offering a hand. Ray accepted it and was summarily yanked to his feet.

"Yeah, man. Just spacing."

The coach's shrill whistle cut over the din of the field. The guys on offense gathered in a loose half circle around the coach. "Kim! What the hell was that? You were in prime position to catch that pass!"

"Sorry, sir. Smith came out of nowhere."

"People just don't turn invisible, Smith! Keep your head in the game!"

The coach chewed out a few other guys before sending the teams into shower. Even though it was early fall in Arizona, it was still plenty warm enough in the morning for one to work up a sweat very easily.

" _You need to keep your head in the game, or else someone else will take you out of it."_

Ray showered and got ready for his day at school. Fortunately they didn't always have practice before class; those days were usually his busiest. Forty-five minutes running drills and practicing plays beforehand. Then school all day. Depending on their individual health plans, sometimes he'd even have to stay and work out after school (or, rather, it was strongly encouraged).

When Ray met up with some of the guys up front, it didn't take long for their small group to slowly grow larger. It was still amazing that he managed to become part of the in crowd, but being at sports tended to do that.

It didn't take long for a slender pair of arms to wrap around his waist from behind. "Hey, baby," said Jenny.

"Oh, hey, Jenny…" said Ray, managing not to stumble from the sudden hug. He adjusted so that he could give the girl a one armed hug.

She leaned up for a kiss, to which Raymond leaned down and kissed her cheek.

"Awww," cooed two of Ray's teammates, their tone facetious.

"Watch out, Jenny. He'll give you  _rabies_ ," said one. Ray groaned and leaned away from Jenny.

"It's too damn early for bad puns, man," complained the wide receiver, glaring at the guy who made the joke.

"Oh, hey, it's your number one fan, Rayby," said another member of the team, nodding in a direction. He and a few others turned to watch a tall girl walking past their group. Large green eyes framed by thick black lenses, long black hair that was left allowed to flow. She was a study in grace, which somehow managed to show through despite her body language signaling her desire to not be noticed.

She glanced up at their group before looking down, blushing in the slightest, and walking faster inside of the school building.

"She's such a weirdo. She does tarot readings or some shit."

"No way, like Miss Cleo?"

"The nineties called, they want their dated references back."

"Shut up, man. And she was more like late nineties, early aughts."

"Look at the brain on Carter! 'Aughts'?" there was some laughter, though Raymond kind of failed to see what was so funny.

" _ **Ought**_ I not have used that word?" A few folks groaned at the forced pun. Ray shook his head-honestly, this group was kind of odd and that was just the thing-the cool kids that everyone tended to put on a nigh unreachable pedestal were just as stupid and goofy as anyone else.

"Are tarot cards really that that odd?" he found himself asking outloud.

"Yes. Only lonely old ladies with thirty cats read tarot cards," replied Jenny with a vehemence that didn't really seem to fit the tone of the conversation. A few folks exchanged some knowing looks (and one or two pitying looks were sent towards Ray). Jenny wanted so bad to be an item with them. They were in a weird gray area-they weren't official, but woe unto any other girl who even glanced in his direction. It was really an easy call to make-Jenny was smart, she was pretty, she laughed at (some of) his jokes. It should have been natural for him to say yes, but...he just couldn't.

"Okay…" he mused, "Hey, before I forget, do you think I can…?"

"Oh, how could I forget! Here you go, bae." Raymond tried not to wince at the use of the word 'bae' and he hid it well. When Jenny produced the sheaf of papers, his expression lit up. "Here you go," she said, handing the papers over. "Last night's algebra."

"Thanks! You don't know how much this helps me," he replied, smiling at Jenny. He made sure to turn on the charm and, when she blushed slightly, he knew that he had succeeded. "I'll make sure you have this before fourth period. I can even walk you to your class," he ran a hand through his hair, loosening it up some so that when he lowered his head, some of it fell over just perfectly. He looked up at Jenny. "That is, if you want."

"I...yeah, I'd like that!"

The first warning bell rang and everyone started to move inside. Ray split up from his friends and tried to ignore the feeling of guilt that gnawed at him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Kiki was left with a bad taste in her mouth.

Some of the words from her dream came back to her. " _Either way, you'll have to make a choice soon, Kiki. Their lives may very well depend on it."_

Their lives may depend on her choice. Raymond Kim and the boy, Sterling Silver. A runaway from a psyche ward and a member of the popular crowd...and  _her_. Really, they couldn't have been any more different than if they tried.

The chances of her having a dream about a boy that he hadn't even met couldn't have been chance. There was  _no_   _way_  for her to have known that Sterling had even existed. For that matter, she definitely didn't have a reason to know what any of the psychiatric hospital's staff had looked like, but she was able to spot Doctor Algae immediately.

She had to apply what her father called "Occums Razor" to her dilemma. What was the simplest explanation for all of this?

' _My dreams are real…'_  she decided, as she paid for her lunch. She walked over to her usual table and waved at a few of her friends. Her group was only "loosely" associated with friends. There were folks from a few different groups. Some of the drama kids, some of the geeks, some of the goths...they all got on well enough. Most importantly, they didn't mind Kiki and Kiki didn't mind them.

' _If my dreams are real, then I really think that this Sterling kid is in danger…'_  she thought, frowning. But what could she do? She probably had to find him.

Kiki glanced at her bag and worried her bottom lip. She normally didn't like to do a reading at school, but...time was of the essence. Kiki pushed her lunch aside and reached into her bag, pulling out a deck of tarot cards.

Kiki began shuffling the cards with a familiar ease. She only had one question;  _how does my path forward look?_

"Oh, Kiks are you doing a reading?" asked a girl who happened to glance over.

"Uh, yeah," replied Kiki, wrinkling her nose as her glasses slipped lower.

"Can you do one for me later?" she asked, glancing meaningfully towards a guy on the other end of their table. Kiki didn't miss the look and quickly put two and two together.

"Later," she agree, placing down three cards.

"I can't believe you brought that stuff to school." Kiki looked up at the new arrival and smiled in spite of the judgemental tone.

"Hey, Sasha!"

Sasha was a girl who stood at average height; she had dark brown skin, curly black hair that was shorn short on the sides and styled in a fancy pompadour. She had the amazing ability to make everything seem effortless in a way that Kiki couldn't. Sasha was smart, pretty, knew a lot of people...and yet somehow she and Kiki were best friends.

"Kiki. What's the deal?" asked Sasha, sitting down across from her friend.

"Trying to figure something out," replied the girl, turning over the cards that she had laid down. Doing a readingwas as much about the cards themselves as it was about the shape and intent that one used when placing the cards down. It was believed that different intent behind the reading required a different shape. She wanted to go with something simple, hence the three card spread.

"Awfully vague, Kiki," admonished Sasha, glancing down at the first three cards. "I can't believe you mess with this stuff still-you have to be careful."

"It can't be  _that_  bad. I found these in my dad's study," retorted Kiki, but with no heat. She understood that Sasha's upbringing was a little more conservative, so anything outside of the norm tended to raise her hackles. She wasn't necessarily superstitious, but she was close.

"Mmm _hmm_ , and yet I really can't see him practicing tarot cards."

"Well, I guess he was really into this stuff when he was younger. Then, he had me and decided to become Mister Straightlaced." Kiki turned over the top two cards and then the bottom two and looked at the results with a thoughtful frown.

"So, what does that mean?" asked Sasha, causing Kiki to look at Sasha with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, but five seconds ago you were just warning me about doing this. Now you're interested?"

"Hey, if you're going to subject me and my tots to your voodoo then I should at least know what's going on!" retorted Sasha.

"Like...this isn't even related to the voodoo religion," muttered Kiki, "Okay, so...we start with the middle three. We have the Fool, the Tower reversed, and the three of swords."

"Okay, but what does it mean?"

"Situation," Kiki pointed at the Fool, "Obstacle," she pointed at the reversed Tower, "And finally advice."

"So...the Fool is some mistake you made?" asked Sasha, raising an eyebrow, "Bad fashion choice? Wrong guy to crush on?"

"Okay, well...not really. The Fool can mean a new beginning. It encompasses a lot of potential, but one should consider their choices carefully."

Sasha judiciously popped a tot in her mouth and nodded. The digested the information almost as easily as the tot. "Okay, so does it matter that the second card is upside down?"

"It does, actually. So, The Tower can be an interesting card in the best of times. Reversed it could represent a fear of change, but more importantly the negative consequences of trying to resist that change."

"That seems pretty consistent with the first card. So, a change is happening, but you're going to want to resist the change, but you definitely shouldn't because it could make your situation worse."

"Yes. Still, a last minute saving grace is possible. This card is about truths being laid bare as much as anything else. It's not always a bad thing." Kiki nodded, smiling at her friend before she quirked an eyebrow. "Are you  _sure_  that you don't do readings on the side?"

"Girl, bye! My mom would have me halfway off to Bible camp before I even had a chance to shuffle a deck. I'm just a good listener." Sasha winked and grinned at Kiki.

"Okay, right. Well, do you want to know what the third card means, or do you have more ego stroking to do?"

"How kind of you to ask. Actually...Sasha," somehow Sasha produced a hand mirror in an instant and addressed her reflection, "You are pretty, your are kind, you are loved." Closing the handheld with a snap, the other girl smiled brightly at Kiki.

Letting out a sigh, Kiki continued with her explanation. "The three of swords…" she looked at the three swords piercing the heart. She looked at the silver shade of the swords and frowned. "Sadness born of separation. Maybe due to betrayal, maybe due to break-up, or just an unexpected situation. Through that pain, however, a relationship may be strengthened. So...I guess the advice is to prepare for heartbreak."

"That's...not really a positive reading, overall. Some inevitable change leading to heartbreak."

"I mean, when you put it like  _that_ ," muttered Kiki, gathering the three cards. She shuffled her deck, but didn't want to do another reading

"Hey, I didn't put it like that. Your cards did."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 2,199
> 
> Total Word Count: 14,244
> 
> 11/9/17 A/N: I switched the order in which this chapter went--originally I had Kiki's portion first, then Raymond's. I only realized later that this would be kind of confusing since I played around with time--Ray's portion of the chapter takes place a little earlier than the events that occurred last chapter, while Kiki's portion picks up right after her narrative in the last chapter. So...sorry about that. I'd like to blame a lack of sleep, but that was such a basic mistake for me to make.
> 
>  
> 
> Original A/N: Okay, so, I'm really not a fan of my teenage banter, but to my defense I really was never a normal teen, so...there's that. Apparently in my mind teens make really bad dad jokes, so...sue me. 
> 
> As far as Kiki's tarot reading goes, I must say that I've never done a reading myself.  I'll try to keep and aspects of tarot within an accurate depiction, but I'm not a practitioner and will probably make a mistake or two.  I'm doing research to remain accurate, but at the same time I'll try not to go too deep into detail when that sort of thing isn't needed.  
> 
>  
> 
> Kiki's nickname, "Kiks," is pronounced like 'k-EE-ks'. 
> 
> That's it for today, though!  I'll do some more writing tomorrow, but if it's not covering all of the ground that I want to reach I might wait until Friday to upload.  


	6. Stock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Another chapter! I wanted this to actually be a little longer and combine more perspectives, but I was kind of wrapped up this weekend and was lucky to really get this much finished. So, on one hand my NaNoWriMo word count took a hit, but overall I'm actually glad with how this chapter came out. As usual, please feel free to drop a line! Let me know how you think I'm doing so far-reviews aren't required, but I definitely appreciate any feedback and constructive comments.

 

 

* * *

_Chapter 5 - Stock_

" _If you build the guts to do something, anything, then you better save enough to face the consequences."_ _\- Criss Jami_

* * *

When Sterling came to, he was confused. At first he didn't recognize where he was. He could hear the hum of an engine and it was soothing, but that was the confusing thing. He was sitting in a large laundry cart that was filled with (presumably) dirty linens.

Then it came back in a flash.

_The weightlessness of falling suddenly interrupted by slamming into slick wet metal. The helpless feeling of sliding off, the mad scramble for him to grab hold onto the ledge._

_By some miracle he found purchase, but his scrawny arms weren't going to be strong enough to keep him up and his fingers were already cramping, and he was going to fall, and the voices were screaming in his head, because when he looked up he could see three demons looking back at him._

_One of the demons jumped into the air and at the apex of her leap, wings exploded from her back. She was coming down to get him. She would grab him and fly him back up to the top and they would drag him back and he would never see the light of day of again. He wouldn't even see fake light, he was sure of it._

_Sterling looked at what he was clinging to. It was a wall mounted A/C unit. It must have been an old one that they no longer used, but never saw fit to get rid of. He could do something with this. He was so sure of it that he could_ _taste_   _it. And then, right in the midst of all of that chaos, it felt as if someone had found a combination lock in his brain and unlocked it._

 _He reached down with one hand, as if it had a mind of its own. He found the screwdriver that he'd pocketed and pried a panel loose. It was like a dam had broken in his mind-everything flowed so easily, he knew exactly what to do, what wires to disconnect, reconnect, he knew what he needed to do in order to build pressure. He needed it to work. Sterling closed his eyes-he could feel the machinery. Aged. Rusty. Neglected. The thing about machines was that they_ _wanted_   _to be used, and so he just had to give it a little..._ _ **nudge**_ _._

_The A/C united hummed to life._

_He glanced up._

_It was Nurse Arella. She landed on the A/C unit, her white leathery wings snapping like a crack of thunder. "Time to take your medicine, little boy!" she screeched, a nightmarish vision. All fangs, red eyes, and drool._

_Sterling let go and let gravity do the rest. The nurse's shriek was swallowed up by the sudden and loud explosion of the A/C unit._

_It wasn't big and fiery-freon wasn't combustible, but pressure could still cause a machine to explode. And besides, he just needed to buy some time…_

And that was it. Sterling vaguely remembered how he made the A/C unit explode. His mind felt all fuzzy when he tried to think about it, when made him frustrated. That was the first time that he was able to think without the voices. It was the first time he didn't feel stupid. But now he was stuck with his broken brain again. He wasn't sure how he ended up in the cart, but he was grateful for the escape.

Sterling sat up and winced, his hand going to his chest, which was a mistake. He clenched his eyes shut and tears fell down his face. He looked down to see that a portion of his shirt was charred black. That was where Director Lupita's whip had struck him.

The skin was already beginning to blister there. That wasn't good. Still, there wasn't much he could do.

Sterling didn't realize that he had passed out until the engine stopped. Between the steady and comfortable sound of the engine and the sheer pain and exhaustion he felt, he had slipped off into unconsciousness.

He could hear someone walking towards the back of the van. He ducked down just as the doors were opened. Sterling silently pulled a few covers over himself and focused on laying very still. The cart was pushed out of the van and thus began a blind journey that he couldn't even begin to anticipate or commit to memory-too many turns, too many pauses, besides...he was committing a large amount of mental resources towards simply not freaking out.

As he waited, his mind latched onto trying to make sense of this insane situation. The fact that he was presently hiding in a cart filled with dirty linens clued him into a good portion. The mental institute outsourced its laundry. Sterling had always assumed that they did their laundry on site, but he must have been wrong.

It was possible that he had the good timing to fall into a basket of linen that was about to get loaded onto the van, but...that was awfully convenient. Not to mention the fact that he wasn't seen? Amazing. Then again, with the explosion of the A/C unit, any emergency vehicles would have wanted the alley clear...maybe he fell just right and managed to cover himself up. The cart was loaded in haste, so there was no way to really spot the unconscious boy in the cart...so many  _ifs_  to answer for.

Either way, that left him with some breathing room, but not not much. He had to get out of the basket before he was loaded up into an industrial washer. Making an A/C unit explode was his one and only party trick-a washer was a different beast altogether, and he didn't think he could survive the spin cycle.

Besides the immediate danger of accidental death-by-washing-machine, there was the imminent danger of the Algae Sisters eventually finding him. It stood to reason that they would be able to track down the location of the truck, if they didn't already know. They used this service to launder their linens, so...that was a given.

Sterling waited for the cart to stop and listened carefully as the footsteps walked away. There was a lot of noise; the churning of huge machines working along with contented familiarity. The machines sounded friendly, old, patient. They'd settled into their roles pretty easily and this place already had a friendlier feel than the institute.

Sterling eventually peeked out; no one was around.

He very gingerly climbed out of the cart and looked around. Not too many people around. It was early morning, he figured. The whole place smelled like 'clean cotton' and it was a little humid. He just wanted to curl up and nap somewhere, but some sense told him that it wasn't safe. Still, there was so much noise and motion and it was all so different that it was hard to focus. He had to make a choice, but he wasn't sure what choices were even available.

Facts he knew:

He was hurt, tired, hungry, and lost. He knew where he didn't want to be, but he didn't know where to go.

He knew that the Algae Sisters would be on his trail (and didn't that thought just terrify him?)-he had to leave, and fast. He had to get far. In his current condition, he couldn't get far-he couldn't get treatment. If he went to the hospital, people would ask questions. He had no way to contact his mom.

The quickest way to leave would be to hitch a ride with one of the vans as they delivered their freshly cleaned linens off on a delivery, but he figured that their deliveries would all be local.

That meant that no matter what he did, he would still be in...be...in…

Sterling paused, realizing that he had no idea where he was located. He had only  _lived_  here his whole life, and now.

Now he couldn't think of the name of his home city. Sterling trembled a little more, but he had no time for that. He had to  _move_. Hiding out in a new delivery would be his best option. He reached up to touch his earring, activating his visors.

A cart was highlighted…

**[Cart:**

**Linens-Status: Dirty. 200 Thread count.]**

He blinked, and looked around, watching as different things were highlighted. The visors told him the contents and working condition of the machinery, told him the temperature of the water in some of the washing machines. He was kind of hoping for an arrow to pop up and give him some direction.

Right as he thought that, a ghostly arrow appeared over a cart. Sterling tilted his head before heading over and seeing what this cart held.

**[Cart:**

**Towels-Status: Clean and freshly pressed. Extra fluffy!]**

"How many would I have to remove so I can hide…" he wondered allowed. The visors scanned a pile of the folded towels and gave him an answer a few seconds later.

Sterling removed the suggested amount of towels and hid them, as to not arouse suspicion. He then climbed into the cart and burrowed underneath the pile he just shortened. From an outside appearance, no one would have been any the wiser.

Thus, when it came time for the cart to get loaded up and delivered to Horizon High School

* * *

Sterling deactivated his visor and used the trip to reflect on his situation.

No matter how he tried to square it, none of it actually made any sense. And he was the crazy one, but this situation was beyond any of his usual delusions. The throbbing pain in his chest reassured him of that fact. This was  _real_.

The Algae Sisters really were out to get him. His mom really did give him an earring that turned into some awesome super-advanced glasses that gave him information about the world. His mom...then...probably did have a reason for leaving him in such a horrible place for three years.

Three years. He was now...how old was he, again?

He couldn't remember.

He couldn't remember where he was from, how old he was. He could remember his room in his old house. He couldn't remember his mother's smile, but he could remember her frown. He could remember the voice of his father.

 _Was_  that his father? Maybe. Maybe that really was still a delusion.

_What did it mean?_

That was too abstract of a thought for him, though. Instead, he tried to focus on something more salient-where was he going? The visor got him out of  _Algae Acres_. It led him to this specific basic, which meant the location was probably important to him. Would his mother be waiting there? There was equal parts anxiety and anticipation. Would she...finally let him come home? Surely she would...she  _gave_  him the visor/earring. So...that meant that she wanted him to escape, which meant that she wanted him to come home.

The truck stopped and turned off. Out of reflex, Sterling became as quiet and still as possible. The cart was slowly removed and Sterling pretend to be on of the towels; soft, fluffy, ready to absorb anything sent its way. No complaint. No pride. It could be dirtied up and tossed to the ground, all but forgotten, but it always did its job. Towels were reliable like that.

The cart stopped. There was a knock. Then a door opened.

"About time you arrived," said a voice. Woman. "Football practice just started not too long ago. The boys are going to need fresh towels."

"Hey, sorry about the wait. One of our drivers was delayed. Explosion over there at the old psych institute had traffic backed up a bit."

"No shit? What went down?"

"One of the patients escaped, I hear! He even rigged the explosion. They think one of the owners got caught in the explosion."

"One of the owners? What was he doing there?" asked the woman.

" _She_ ," corrected the driver, "And she works there. Apparently some sisters own that joint now. Anyways, I'm sure you'll hear all about it on the news."

"Alright. Do you one one more cart for us?"

"Three more, actually."

"Okay. Let me get this one to the laundry room and then I'll come out to help you with others."

More motion. Then it stopped. Sterling listened for the footfalls to fade before he carefully climbed out. He looked around; he was in a laundry room. There were a few washers and driers, but all had a sign reading  **OUT OF ORDER**. Strange that it was all of them.

There was a nearby shelf, filled with neatly folded clothing. Brand new, given that it was still in its plastic packaging. That was...convenient. It made sense that the school would have extra uniforms on campus for purchase.

Well...he was going to need to blend in.

Sterling grabbed an armful of clothes before slipping out of the room. He found a locker room and opened the packages, whereupon he discovered that he had grabbed the girl's uniform. That gave Sterling pause-he could risk going back to the laundry room and seeing if he could grab some boys clothes, but he didn't want to get caught

He needed to blend in.

_You're so stupid!_

_Can't even pick out a disguise right..._

_Is this even the right size?_

_Do you have the body for that outfit?_

_You can't put on clean clothes when you're dirty._

Well, for once he had a good thought. The showers were easy enough to figure out. He was mindful of water getting on his wound. A lack of towels meant that he had to dry off with paper towels. He dressed slowly, trying not to aggravate the wound further. His old clothes ended up in the trash; the only thing he kept were his shoes; they were black, plain, blocky, and a little more on the side of 'business' rather than 'causal'. They didn't look  _too_  out of place. Sterling paused as he came across the screwdriver and Allen key that he had pilfered from the mental institute. Fortunately the blazer had an inside pocket, so he stashed his prizes away there.

Sterling was just figuring out the tie when he heard a trample of footsteps coming down the hallway. He picked the bathroom stall at the very end and quietly closed the door. Sterling may have picked the wrong uniform, but he picked the right locker room, a fact that quickly became apparent as the locker room was filled with the sound of male voices. Teenaged male voices. Sterling lifted his legs and rested his heels on the edge of the toilet seat, as to remain undetected.

_They're going to find you._

_They're going to find you and turn you in._

_They're going to wonder who you are._

_How long will it take them to find out that you aren't a student?_

_How long until the sisters find you again?_

The thought about calling his mother had crossed his mind. Clearly she had intended for him to escape, otherwise she wouldn't have gifted him the earring that could magically transform into visors that had some kind of data analytical function and some kind of navigation function. Honestly, it kind of reminded him of a video game a little.

Still, the fact that she was the one who left him in the horrible place quickly quelled that instinct. She  _left him there_. She knew what that place was like, what they were doing to him. Sterling bit the bottom of his lip, trying to hold in the desire to scream...he really couldn't have a breakdown. Not here...not  _now_.

Besides, he couldn't even remember his home number or address. He knew that...he knew that they were from Texas, but he couldn't remember  _where_. He knew that  _Algae Acres_  was somewhere in Arizona. But that was all he knew.

He unconsciously reached up and fingered his earring. The visors activated. There wasn't much for him to scan in the bathroom stall, but a new prompt appeared.

**[Activate Mist Disguise?]**

**[Y/N/?]**

His eyes rested on the question mark for a little too long because a new box appeared.

**[Mist Disguise - Distorts the Mist to hide your true appearance. Works on most mortals and demigods, may work on some monsters, will not work on gods.]**

Not unlike a Wikipedia article, certain words were a different color, as if signifying a link to click on. It was weird, yes...but in context he figured the fact that his super syfy visors came with an encyclopedia was actually one of the first few positive things to occur since...well, the past three years. He stared at the Mist and the entry changed.

**[The Mist - A supernatural force that twists a mortal's senses and memories, hiding the true nature of the supernatural from them.]**

Sterling looked away and the window closed, taking him back to his initial option…

**[Activate Mist Disguise?]**

**[Y/N/?]**

His eyes hovered over ' **Y'**. He felt something like a warm breeze blowing across his body, but then it was gone. Sterling didn't feel any different, but the window was now gone. His visor still seemed to be active, but he didn't see fit to deactivate it just yet.

Sterling listened to the banter of the teens and wondered what their lives were like. He felt the sting of jealousy...they were allowed to be normal. Didn't they know how fragile their realities were? They were eggs in a precariously placed nest, one strong gust of wind away from being shattered on the ground.

Eventually the sounds decreased as people left

Sterling waited for a few more minutes before slipping out. The coast seemed to be clear; a shower was still running, but the showers were situated in such a way that Sterling would be able to leave without anyone being any the wiser.

Sterling passed by a mirror and paused, having caught someone different in the corner of his eye. When he turned to look he just saw himself as normal, with the visor. He blinked before turning away and paused as he saw it  _again_. He turned slowly and it was only just in the corner of his eye that he saw that he looked different. When he looked at himself full on-through the  _visor_ -he looked like himself. He lowered his visor and slowly a different version of himself was revealed.

The first thing he noticed was that instead of visors he was now wearing a thick framed set of glasses. The frames were black with gold and bronze floral flourish on the sides. He had hair now; instead of his hair being shorn in a bald fade, he appeared to have a whole head of hair; black, styled in a short bob, the sides still shaved short. Sterling reached up and felt the hair-it  _felt_  real, but when he slid the visors back on he was back to his short hair. He rubbed his fingers over the stubble a few times and had to shake his head. Okay. This was a thing now.

The disguise even threw in a bit of makeup; some eyeliner, a touch of eyeshadow, what appeared to be lip gloss. Other than those slight touches, he still looked the same. Just prettier.

The fact that the visors 'knew' that he was wearing a girl's uniform was...something to consider. Sterling shook his head. It was time to go. Right as he turned towards the door, however, he heard the voice of someone singing.

_They named it the rock/_

_Land of the living dead/_

_A repose for the rich and famous!_

_All the infamous would tell each other's lies/_

_Why did they want to tell the truth?_

_On an island in the sun/_

_Cool Pacific winds blow._

The voice was coming from the showers. It was enough to give Sterling pause. In spite of himself, the boy couldn't help but find himself drawn to the voice. He stayed rooted to his spot for a few seconds before he finally forced himself to leave the locker room. He couldn't afford to dawdle.

* * *

Sterling decided that the best thing he could do was blend in, so that meant attending whatever random classroom that looked like it had space. It earned him the occasional odd look, but no one seemed to give it too much thought. Despite the fact that a new student was joining them unannounced, most people were  _fine_  with the new face. He wondered if that was part of the Mist disguise and figured that it must have been a feature.  _Nothing to see here, folks. I've always been here_.

Neat.

It was incredibly surreal, sitting in class, pretending to be normal. It felt like being the only person awake while everyone else was sleep walking. It was eerily familiar, but with less straitjackets than he was used to.

Apparently blending in also meant accidentally shoulder checking tall girls. He didn't knock her over, but he didn't stick around either to see if she was okay-he wasn't sure what he would say or do in case of a confrontation.

Sterling wondered how much time he would have. Not much. He needed to go. But where to? The visor didn't see fit to give him any additional direction. For now he had safety in camouflage and access to resources. He could figure out a plan of action, hopefully before the end of the school day. More and more, it looked like his best plan was going to be reuniting with his mom, but he didn't know  _how_. He could only remember that he was from Texas and  _that was it_.

"You look lost. Can I help?"

It took Sterling a full two seconds to realize that someone was speaking to him. He blinked and looked at the guy; bright orange sash that read 'Hallway Monitor'. Matching orange hat. Friendly smile.

Reminded him of the rotten apples, but  _opposite_. Like, instead of something stale, he smell like freshly baked apple pie. It very much carried with it a hint of nostalgia for home, but that didn't make sense since his mother never really baked. Or cooked. Or did anything to make a place feel like home.

"Um…" said Sterling, unintelligibly, realizing that he was staring at the guy and that it was probably weird, but he really just couldn't help himself.

"Do…" the boy narrowed his eyes and looked sideways at Sterling, "You don't look familiar. Like...at all."

"I'm not" replied Sterling, "Not familiar, that is. I don't go here. Or, rather, I  _didn't_  but now I do. I transferred. I'm  _normal_." Right, because that was what normal people said, right? Right.

"Well, let me be the first to welcome you to Horizon High! I'm Briar Patch." Briar offered a hand. Sterling stared at the hand before blankly looking back up at Briar. Briar waved the hand, as if hinting that Sterling should grab it. So, he did. But he wasn't sure what to do, but it was like the apple smell had intensified. It smelled  _so good_ ….so of course he couldn't be blamed for what happened next.

He lifted the aforenamed Briar's hand to his face and licked it.

"That's okay," replied Briar, his smile not faltering, only wincing slightly as he rubbed his hand against his shirt "normally this  _is_  the part where we exchange names."

Sterling furrowed his brow; not only did the guy not taste like apples, but he wanted to switch names? How odd.

"But...I don't want your name."

Briar looked nonplussed. "I don't think I said anything about switching names. Just us...you know,  _exchanging_  them. So, I told you that my name is Briar…"

"My name...is…."

'Sterling' was kind of a boy's name, right? And he  _looked_  like a girl. Though, honestly, he felt that any girl could have the name Sterling if she wanted-who the hell was society to tell her what she could and couldn't do? Though, he needed to be incognito, so a fake name would have to do. A pseudonym. Though... _that_  was an odd word. Why wasn't it pseudo _name_? Realizing that he was staring blankly again, Sterling spoke up. "Sylvia," he supplied. It was the first thing to come to mind. It sounded kind of like his name, so if someone called him it then he had a high chance of remembering that he was supposed to be pretending, with his pseudoname.

"Cool. Nice to meet you, Sylvia! So,  _were_  you lost?"

"Yes. I was in search of...sustenance," said Sterling, his delivery a tad stiff. That was a thing kids his age did, right? Eat food? It wasn't like he didn't eat but he was always given food at irregular hours, so he wasn't used to asking for food. The only thing that was a constant in that place was pain, darkness, and his light. Even food was taken out of his control.

Even when he got the food, sometimes it was old, cold, disgusting, sometimes not even cooked. So, really, the thought of food turned his stomach, but he needed to seem normal. Thus he realized belatedly that maybe he was asking for food too early or maybe even too late.

Briar just looked confused. "Huh. So, 'sustenance'? I can't say that I actually know that word. Can you use it in a sentence?"

Sterling blinked. "I  _just_  did."

"Country of origin?"

Now it was Sterling's turn to look confused. "Mine?"

"No, man, the word's."

"I don't know, check its passport," replied Sterling, getting annoyed by this guy. Good apple smell or not, he wasn't sure if Briar was being serious or facetious; neither was good, because if he was being facetious he was wasting Sterling's time. If he was being serious then he was an insane idiot.

The guy  _laughed_  and Sterling huffed, folding his arms and glaring at the guy. "I'll find my own way to the communal eating area if you refuse to assist."

"Whoa, hey-" Sterling turned and stalked away.

"Hey, hey, I was  _kidding_. Sorry, it was a bad joke. Come on, let me show you the lunch room."

Sterling gave Briar a silent look. The hall monitor rolled his eyes and sighed. "I promise, I'll take you to get something to eat, okay?"

Briar started to walk in the opposite direction that Sterling was originally going to head towards. After debating it for a few moments, he turned to follow.

* * *

"Here we are! The best place to get a-" Briar looked over to see that 'Sylvia' was already walking towards the lunch line. "You're welcome," he muttered before leaving.

Sterling stood in line and observed the kids in front of him. He glanced at the tray and wondered why those were made available. Didn't they know how many different ways that tray could be used to whack someone over the head?

But then again...there were no orderlies around. The doors weren't locked. This wasn't like the place where he spent three years of his life. The freedoms here were so alien to him. It made him tremble and for some reason he felt choked up, like he wanted to cry but he clamped down on the emotion.

After grabbing the tray, the kids seemed to have a choice of what sort of food they wanted.

It was absolutely insane, but as an absolutely insane person Sterling figured that he was in the right place. When it came to be his turn, he spotted what he wanted.

"Tater tots please," he said, feeling uncertain. He didn't relax until the tots were placed safely on his tray.

A juice box was his only addition. When he got towards the end of the line he spotted an issue-the kids were paying with cash.

He didn't have any cash.

**[Activate gesture recognition interface feature?]**

**[Y/N/?]**

Sterling focused on the question mark.

**[Gesture Recognition Interface - Although the Mist Disguise feature is largely autonomic, specific gestures can interact with the mist that comprises your disguise to a variety of effect. For example, do a plucking gesture….]**

The very last period blinked, as if waiting for Sterling to comply. So, he did; he made a plucking gesture. He wasn't holding anything thing, but then realized that he had to peek at his hand around the edge of his glasses and did so.

He was holding a five dollar bill. It  _felt_  real. It even seemed a little aged.

**[Great work! There is a tutorial for a few other gestures, however there is room to program more. Be careful-accidentally performing any gestures with this feature active could lead to embarrassing mistakes.]**

**[Activate gesture recognition interface feature?]**

**[Y/N/?]**

Sterling looked at the 'Y' and the box disappeared. He peeked at his hand and saw that he was still holding the five dollar bill.

"Is that all you're getting, sweetheart?" asked the lunch lady. Sterling silently nodded and handed over his five. He was honestly surprised when the woman handed him change for his purchase. He left the line and found a seat where he could watch the entrances into the lunchroom. That placed him at a table that already had a few people there. He sat a seat down from two girls that sat across from each other. The one on his side of the table was shuffling and abnormally large deck of cards. He could see something flowing between the girl and the cards. He tilted his head, trying to figure it out, but his observation invited a look of curiosity.

Sterling turned away-he needed to seem normal.

Not counting the kitchen, there were two ways into the lunchroom; one from the hallway, and another that lead outdoors to the 'recess' area, or so he surmised.

Sterling munched on his tots and looked at the money that was given back to him. Basically, he was given something for nothing and that made him feel a little guilty. He wasn't sure that he liked stealing...and that was exactly what he did, technically. First with the food and the juice, and then with the money he was given. It didn't feel right to take it, so he made up his mind to leave it on the table.

Sterling was just finishing up his tots when three creatures stepped into the lunchroom. Two were dressed as orderlies, but they were taller. More muscular. There was a certain quality of  _inhumaneness_  to them that made him realize that they weren't human. They towered over anyone else present and looked like they would have no trouble clearing out the whole room of people if they had to.

Walking in-between them was a woman. She had white leathery wings, her skin was pale, her eyes red. The shock of white hair was inexplicably the same and the self satisfied smirk looked familiar. Director Lupita. She wore most of the same outfit, sans her doctor's coat-that was her wings.

Sterling lowered the visors and sure enough Director Lupita looked like her human self and the orderlies seemed like the same; normal humans.

But they  _weren't_. He could smell their rotten apple stink from here.

Sterling started hyperventilating because he really wasn't expecting to see them here and he thought he had more time and what did it mean that they looked like how they smelled? Did that mean he was getting crazier or...worse, that he wasn't crazy and that they were real?

The emotion swelled inside of him like water somehow filling up a bottled from the inside-there was nowhere for all that trapped water to go and it was going to explode.

"Oh my god, are you okay? Kiks, I think she's having an episode or something!" said a voice.

"Hey there, hey," said another voice, this one a little calmer than the first. "Can you look at me?"

The voice was coming from his side. Sterling looked up at the girl. She was the one messing around with the cards. She also wore glasses and her eyes were so big and green and friendly and she seemed so concerned and that was the first time that Sterling could honestly remember someone looking at him like that. Not confusion. Not pity. Not annoyance or disgust.  _Concern_.

It was all too much emotion at once. Sterling couldn't have stopped the sob that ripped out of him. He covered his mouth with one hand, but he could feel his eyes growing heavy with tears. Suddenly the girl was a seat closer and she reached out and grabbed the hand that he wasn't using to cover his mouth.

"Hey now, it's okay. I don't know what's wrong, but...do you want us to get a teacher or the counselor?" she asked gently. Sterling shook his head, blinking away a few tears. "Do you need the nurse?"

Sterling actually flinched at the mention of the word 'nurse' and shuddered. "Okay, okay, no nurses," replied the girl. Sterling looked down at their clasped hands and tried to swallow his sobs. "I know, it can be tough," said the girl, her words kind, "I suddenly have my moments when I don't feel like I quite fit where I'm at. Like...I'm a puzzle piece that fits in, but I'm different anyways. Like...taking a puzzle piece from a completely different puzzle-even if it fits,  _it doesn't make sense._ "

Sterling stared at the girl as she talked.  _Mint_  was the first thing that came to mind. It was like she was mint; cool, refreshing, reassuring, because it was always easy to talk to people with mint on your breath. You knew that you wouldn't offend others with bad breath-that was this girl. Not so much a breath freshener, but...she was  _reassuring_  like mint. "That didn't mean that the puzzle was wrong and needed to change, nor did it mean that I was wrong and had to change. It just meant that I had to travel to where I fit in perfectly. I had to find the place that I was mean to be...you know what I mean?"

Sterling silently nodded.

The girl smiled and Sterling felt the tension in him slowly uncoil. "Nice to see that you're not crying anymore."

And...he wasn't. Sterling blinked in surprise. He...was  _calm_. For the first time, he was calm. Sterling wiped at his eyes (careful not to remove his glasses) and sniffled loudly.

"Feeling better?" asked the girl.

"More importantly, where do you buy your mascara from? Not a bit of it ran at all," observed her friend. Sterling and the green eyed girl both gave her friend matching strange looks. " _What?_  It's a legitimate question!"

The mint girl sighed and shook her head. "Sasha, now isn't-"

The bell rang. Everyone got to their feet. This was Sterling's time-he felt briefly bad for suddenly cutting out, but he stood and moved with the crowd. The two giant men were searching the crowd while the director stood near the door. The chaos of the crowd was his only chance.

Sterling held his breath as he walked amongst his peers. The two giants were far off, but the director was peering at everyone sharply. As he passed through the threshold he saw her nostrils flare and turn sharply towards his direction. He slipped into the hallway and kept searching for a door. Finally he approached the first one he laid eyes on. It led outside. Without a glance backwards, Sterling continued and hoped that he bought himself some time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, a few things I didn't really address last chapter that I probably should have. Kiki's tarot card reading...I can't profess to be an expert on tarot readings since I've never actually done them myself, nor do I plan on it. I did do some cursory research and I had a friend who would do readings. With that being said, any representation her of this practice or any others isn't done with any disrespect in mind. If there is something presented that is wildly inaccurate, please feel free to reach out and let me know! I'm perfectly fine with correction.
> 
> Also, Sterling's visors! It wasn't my initial intention for them to start to take on a weird video game type aspect, but as a wrote I really found himself digging the idea. So, in short...#sorrynotsorry.
> 
> Lastly, the song being sang in the shower is by a group named Alcatrazz, "Island in the Sun". Amazing song, wonderful vocalist (Graham Bonnet), and one of the most talented guitarist you'll ever hear (Yngwie Malmsteen). If you haven't heard it before, treat yourself.


End file.
